Fidget
by Entwinedlove
Summary: One-shot. / Fidgeting is a sign of a soul full of guilt. Tracey decides to take someone to the Yule Ball that her mother would disapprove of.


AN: Written for TobermorianSass (on Tumblr) for the **HP Rare Pair Secret Santa**. The suggested trope was "Brideshead Revisited themes."

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 _...You'd better have a good reason for staying at school for the holiday, you know how I like you to be here for Christmas Mass. And you never told me what those ridiculously priced dress robes were for. The school year is already half-over, surely whatever you needed them for has happened already._

 _\- Mother_

Tracey sighed. She hated getting owl post from her mother almost as much as she felt bad for hating it. She had known she was going to have to tell her mother about the Yule Ball eventually. She just didn't think it would be so soon. She should have known better.

Deciding on a course of action, Tracey tucked away her letter and finished her breakfast. She scouted the Hufflepuff table and then Slytherin one. Not finding either of her quarries she headed back to the common room. She assumed her first quarry was there.

Tracey spotted Greg sitting next to the underwater window watching the fish swim by and approached him. "Greg," she called softly when she was near enough.

"Hmm?" He looked over at her.

"Who are you taking to the Ball?"

He narrowed his eyes in thought and there was a moment's pause before he spoke. "Vincent?"

She couldn't help the half-smile that graced her lips. "Can I tell my mother that you're taking me?"

"Umm, I guess?"

"Thanks," she said, turning to walk away.

Before she could get three steps he'd asked her something. "Why?"

"Because she would get royally brassed off if she found out who I plan to ask."

His eyebrows scrunched up. "You going with a mudblood, or something?"

She nodded. "Or something." She left him to ponder that and exited the common room. She wasn't sure where her next target was but she figured the Hufflepuff common room would be a good place to start.

She had seen the entrance in passing before and found the wooden barrels that marked the portrait hole. The portrait was of an old man with an ear trumpet. "Yes?" he wheezed at her.

"Do you know if Susan Bones is in the common room?"

"Who?"

"Fourth year girl. Red hair, blue eyes, soft spoken?"

"I could just let you in to see?"

"I'm a Slytherin. I doubt the majority of your House would tolerate me in there."

"Oh. Very well, I will go check," the old wizard said and slowly turned and plodded past his frame. Tracey waited nearby, not exactly hiding behind one of the barrels, but not right in front of the portrait either. The wizard crept back into his painting and picked up his ear trumpet again. "She will be out soon," he said slowly.

Tracey tried not to fidget. _Fidgeting is a sign of a soul full of guilt_ , her mother's voice whispered in her head.

The portrait swung open and Susan stepped out. Her hair was pulled back into a single plait and she looked curious but not wary. When she spotted Tracey she stopped. "Mr. Creaseworthy said there was a Slytherin out here," she said by way of greeting. "Davis, isn't it?"

Tracey smiled. "I'd prefer Tracey, actually."

Susan nodded and smiled encouragingly.

"I was wondering if you'd like to go to the Yule Ball with me," Tracey said.

Susan's eyes went wide and she ducked her head, causing her plait to slip over her shoulder. "Umm," she stalled before glancing back up, bright, blue eyes clear. "Yes. I think I'd like that," she said. She looked shocked at her own answer too.

Tracey felt warmth bubble up in her chest at the look on Susan's face. "Brilliant," she said, grinning widely. "Would you like to meet at the Entrance Hall?"

Susan nodded so quickly she reminded Tracey of one of her aunt's bobblehead dolls. Tracey said a hasty goodbye and returned to her dorm room, elated and happy all the way down to her feet. It wasn't until bedtime when she pulled the letter from her mother out of her pocket that she remembered she needed to write back. She wrote out a brief draft and decided that was good enough for the night. She'd work on it more in the morning.

After penning her best not-quite-lies to her mother, Tracey spent the days leading up to the Yule Ball feeling a strange mix of elation and guilt. During the day, she would spend a lot of time trying not to fidget and peaking into her wardrobe at her dress robes. They were a pale yellow color and very conservative. She wasn't overly fond of them but she was excited. She even practiced styling her hair with spells from one of Pansy's books. It didn't turn out well.

While she lay in bed at night, Tracey's mind would fill to the brim with her mother's voice reciting prayers and verses and proverbs. She hoped her makeup would cover any sign of her restless nights.

Finally, the night had arrived and Tracey did her best with her hair. She donned her dress robes, which looked nice against her skin even if they weren't the best color for a Christmas Ball. She walked with the other Slytherins of her year toward the Great Hall for dinner but stopped outside at the Entrance Hall and waited.

She tried not to fidget.

And then an entourage of Hufflepuffs, some of whom were also wearing yellow, started heading her way. When Tracey spotted Susan she lost her breath. Susan had curled her hair and it framed her face. Her coloring was complimented by the forest green dress robes she was wearing.

Susan stopped a few steps away from Tracey and let the rest of her friends walk into the Great Hall. "We're wearing each other's House color," she said, smiling.

Tracey swallowed and tried to stem the anxiety that was making her heart beat rapidly. "You look like a Christmas poinsettia. You're gorgeous," she gushed.

Susan's smile turned radiant. "Thanks."

They stared at one another for a while and Tracey felt her fingers twitch as she straightened her sleeves and flattened her skirt, trying not to wipe her clammy hands on her dress robes.

"Shall we, then?" Susan offered.

This time it was Tracey's turn to nod like a bobblehead doll.


End file.
